Final goodbye - A johnlock story
by Blueboxandaviolin
Summary: Its three years after the fall, and sherlock has decided to tell John about him being alive, but he didn't take all variables into cinsideration. What has happened to the dynamic duo?
1. Thoughts of John

Final goodbye – A Johnlock story

**Buzz Buzz Buzz**

I looked at my alarm, 7:30. It didn't wake me, as I had not slept that night, to shaken by the dreams I had had the previous night.

**Buzz Buzz Buzz**

I groaned and threw my alarm clock at the wall. I was no longer residing in 221B Baker Street, and I hadn't been since I faked my death. In my mind I went over the events of that day. I remember Moriarty shooting himself like it was yesterday. The loud gunshot ringing in my ears, his lifeless body lying in front of me. The events of that afternoon were the reason for my nightmares and my lack of sleep in the past 24 hours. Looking around me I took in the atmosphere, the feeling that was in the air at the flat I was staying at. I had acquired it from my somewhat older brother, Mycroft. There were piles of books everywhere, and paper scattered around the floor, some pinned to the walls, some untidily out away in folders. The smell of paint still lingered in the air as I had painted my room a few days ago. The old colour bored me, so I changed it. There was my laptop on my desk, along with my beloved skull. My old violin stood alone in the corner, next to the kitchen sink.

"Up Sherlock!"

In my daydreamt state I had failed to realise that Mycroft had walked into my room and now was standing next to the only window, opening the curtains dramatically.

"You have been in this room for the past three weeks. Get your clothes; you're coming to work with me. I have a case for you." A smirk erupted on his normally emotionless face. Which was met with a pout of mine.

"I don't want to. It's nice in here. There are no distractions, I can think."

"Think about what?" Mycroft was always the one for straight forwardness, and uncomfortable eye contact. I broke his focus and walked to the kitchen.

"I have to tell you something. Mycroft, I'm in love with John."


	2. Blanket

"Every time I think about him I smile. I miss the nights where we solved cases together. I miss the times he would make me a coffee or a tea, then sit so close to me that my nostrils were filled with his musky, gorgeous sent. Every time that we had a case he would sit next to me on the couch and would lean so close to me that we were almost touching, but not quite. It was times like that when I just wanted his touch, wanted his hand in mine, wanting to be as close as possible. That's how I know I love him, Mycroft."

"How long?"

"Four years, nine months, two weeks and three days. That was the day he wrote up the 'study in pink' blog. He called my ignorant, and I pretended not to care but I did. I did more than you can ever imagine. And there was a hint of him being apologetic in his eyes, and I knew that I would grow to love him.

As you know I have basically become a master at hiding my feelings. Love is human condition, but it slows me down. Mycroft, help me. I can't stop thinking about him. He is all I think about. He is all I dream about. He is all I want. I need John. I need _my _John."

I wiped away the tears that streamed down my cheeks. _Really Sherlock? Crying? Over a man? Even if you do love him, there is no need to cry about it._

Mycroft opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"And now I have ruined my change. He thinks I'm dead. And I know that I could go and see him and everything would be fine, but it wouldn't Mycroft. It just wouldn't. What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he slaps me and shuts the door on my face? What if he doesn't want to be together and I ruin my friendship with him?" There were so many other variables that I didn't want to say out loud. If I said them it would just become true, all of them. Mycroft was looking at me. Staring at me with the eyes I had known since I was young. I remember during my childhood, he was my parental figure. After my parents passed away he was there. Taking care of me, feeding me, making sure I was getting ready for school. Sadly since then though I hadn't seen as much of my big brother as I would have liked. But he was still staring at me. Then it hit me, my blanket had fallen off my lap, exposing me in my naked state to Mycroft. Oops. I quickly grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom.


End file.
